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 |
---|---|---|---|
1208 | 2020-10-10 21:32:56 | 53.94 | 96% |
223 | 2020-08-17 13:36:47 | 26.43 | 91% |