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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 893 | 2024-07-20 01:04:43 | 71.98 | 94.9% |
| 769 | 2024-06-18 02:50:09 | 85.92 | 97% |
| 615 | 2024-04-12 06:37:07 | 73.32 | 96.9% |
| 361 | 2024-03-25 23:06:14 | 69.11 | 94.5% |
| 153 | 2024-03-02 04:59:23 | 67.13 | 94.7% |