Helplessly hoping, her harlequin hovers nearby, awaiting a word. Gasping at glimpses of gentle true spirit, he runs, wishing he could fly, only to trip at the sound of good-bye.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 169 | 2020-05-03 13:39:08 | 38.68 | 97% |
| 124 | 2020-05-01 13:35:58 | 34.43 | 95% |