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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 4633 | 2023-12-06 21:19:36 | 86.05 | 97% |
| 4606 | 2023-11-28 22:21:39 | 84.71 | 96.9% |