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 |
---|---|---|---|
20264 | 2025-07-05 16:49:08 | 76.52 | 96% |
19550 | 2024-07-26 07:59:19 | 81.10 | 98.1% |
18703 | 2023-11-18 11:28:43 | 86.72 | 97% |