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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2753 | 2024-05-08 13:18:27 | 61.92 | 97.7% |
| 2204 | 2023-11-11 14:51:06 | 51.88 | 96.1% |
| 2160 | 2023-11-08 12:51:39 | 50.11 | 95.4% |
| 2152 | 2023-11-07 06:03:33 | 48.17 | 96% |