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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1148 | 2020-11-19 22:38:22 | 94.56 | 100% |
| 933 | 2020-01-05 02:51:08 | 77.65 | 99% |