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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6391 | 2023-11-22 12:12:52 | 68.19 | 96.1% |
| 6220 | 2023-11-11 14:45:15 | 60.44 | 94.7% |
| 6147 | 2023-11-09 16:53:46 | 68.53 | 95.4% |