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 |
---|---|---|---|
2238 | 2024-03-24 19:40:12 | 100.79 | 95.8% |
1665 | 2024-02-14 02:31:45 | 97.16 | 96% |
1360 | 2024-01-19 19:34:43 | 94.89 | 96.7% |
1090 | 2023-12-11 20:10:08 | 81.65 | 95.7% |