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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 189267 | 2024-03-23 20:10:00 | 100.07 | 97.2% |
| 179100 | 2023-12-23 04:24:52 | 96.13 | 97.2% |
| 177726 | 2023-12-11 17:24:33 | 101.28 | 97.5% |
| 171987 | 2023-10-03 02:53:42 | 99.69 | 96.7% |