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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2701 | 2024-02-09 14:22:50 | 63.53 | 94.5% |
| 2675 | 2024-02-08 22:03:01 | 65.13 | 95% |
| 2492 | 2024-01-30 13:15:06 | 54.39 | 95.6% |
| 2390 | 2024-01-21 16:20:55 | 67.37 | 96% |