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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3802 | 2024-10-06 22:23:12 | 176.62 | 98.1% |
| 3512 | 2024-10-06 19:32:49 | 185.51 | 99.2% |