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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1513 | 2024-01-30 07:19:04 | 61.05 | 95.5% |
| 1126 | 2023-12-04 15:48:10 | 73.93 | 97.2% |
| 749 | 2023-10-06 12:08:06 | 61.89 | 95.6% |