The cool morning, pale as pearl, threw tendrils of mist over the blue-gray ice. Ancient trees ringed the frozen water; their dark limbs seemed to hold up the sky. Frost silvered the earth, and all around was the whisper of water, breaking loose winter's bonds. A thrush called from within the wood. There was no sign of the horses.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2404 | 2024-04-24 05:36:03 | 60.32 | 98.9% |
| 2220 | 2024-03-21 10:51:48 | 66.13 | 98.3% |
| 1102 | 2023-10-11 05:15:58 | 56.45 | 97.7% |