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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 552 | 2023-11-29 06:07:58 | 70.24 | 96.5% |
| 500 | 2023-11-23 02:13:29 | 66.91 | 95.9% |
| 349 | 2023-11-06 15:09:27 | 48.46 | 95% |
| 293 | 2023-11-04 07:55:44 | 49.47 | 95.5% |