Even if the morrow is barren of promises, nothing shall forestall my return. To become the dew that quenches the land, to spare the sands, the seas, the skies, I offer thee this silent sacrifice.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1869 | 2020-12-01 17:29:43 | 51.06 | 95% |