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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5322 | 2024-02-28 23:35:47 | 61.96 | 95.3% |
| 5134 | 2024-02-06 21:58:10 | 68.35 | 95% |
| 4291 | 2023-11-14 13:07:44 | 59.95 | 94.9% |