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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1144 | 2023-11-18 06:17:21 | 73.27 | 94.3% |
| 835 | 2023-11-06 11:54:23 | 68.84 | 94% |