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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 301 | 2023-12-16 05:21:08 | 73.51 | 96.7% |
| 52 | 2023-11-04 22:28:46 | 67.09 | 96.6% |
| 4 | 2023-11-03 17:57:39 | 71.02 | 97.8% |