Helplessly hoping, her harlequin hovers nearby, awaiting a word. Gasping at glimpses of gentle true spirit, he runs, wishing he could fly, only to trip at the sound of good-bye.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3038 | 2019-12-30 04:15:19 | 86.06 | 98% |
| 666 | 2019-10-09 17:45:52 | 73.64 | 99% |