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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2922 | 2024-02-22 10:22:23 | 72.23 | 97.1% |
| 2387 | 2024-02-16 14:12:05 | 72.03 | 98% |
| 2382 | 2024-02-16 14:07:28 | 70.15 | 97% |