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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1877 | 2024-01-22 18:02:59 | 53.67 | 96% |
| 1876 | 2024-01-22 18:01:28 | 52.41 | 97% |
| 1831 | 2024-01-15 13:59:42 | 55.29 | 96% |
| 1546 | 2023-11-27 18:11:14 | 50.70 | 94.8% |