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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2374 | 2025-01-27 23:38:17 | 67.46 | 96.8% |
| 2129 | 2024-07-18 22:00:04 | 60.92 | 96.2% |
| 2113 | 2024-07-15 17:28:57 | 70.03 | 98.3% |
| 1687 | 2024-03-23 21:27:05 | 64.45 | 98.8% |