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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1205 | 2024-05-04 10:36:57 | 53.17 | 95.4% |
| 1106 | 2024-04-26 22:51:36 | 55.45 | 96.4% |
| 1045 | 2024-04-24 23:02:08 | 59.05 | 96.7% |
| 1042 | 2024-04-24 19:46:16 | 58.89 | 97.2% |
| 920 | 2024-04-21 20:23:21 | 50.38 | 94.5% |
| 215 | 2024-02-20 08:58:15 | 42.02 | 94.3% |