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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1304 | 2024-04-28 05:37:23 | 70.80 | 96.8% |
| 461 | 2024-01-29 12:02:32 | 55.18 | 95.3% |
| 396 | 2024-01-28 18:53:43 | 52.55 | 96.4% |
| 248 | 2024-01-27 01:46:49 | 45.25 | 94.2% |