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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2636 | 2024-11-26 19:33:31 | 49.22 | 94.6% |
| 1457 | 2024-05-06 23:53:16 | 54.45 | 95.9% |
| 1328 | 2024-04-13 16:02:39 | 49.61 | 95.6% |