Blore stood rigid - listening. He could hear sounds everywhere now, cracks, rustles, mysterious whispers - but his dogged, realistic brain knew them for what they were - the creations of his own heated imagination. And then suddenly he heard something that was not imagination. Footsteps, very soft, very cautious, but plainly audible to a man listening with all his ears as Blore was listening.
Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
---|---|---|---|
5608 | 2023-11-06 17:02:24 | 127.62 | 97% |