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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 4647 | 2025-05-19 16:21:51 | 81.95 | 98.6% |
| 3837 | 2024-06-15 08:05:36 | 74.16 | 97.1% |
| 2268 | 2024-01-06 10:20:01 | 76.48 | 96.8% |
| 1670 | 2023-11-26 14:28:35 | 75.75 | 97% |