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 |
---|---|---|---|
29257 | 2023-11-25 18:00:29 | 80.19 | 99.7% |
27075 | 2023-10-13 10:50:16 | 76.96 | 99.7% |