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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2002 | 2024-12-02 12:24:24 | 62.81 | 97.4% |
| 1968 | 2024-11-29 12:49:37 | 60.44 | 97.8% |
| 1912 | 2024-11-23 13:00:52 | 61.25 | 96.5% |
| 1654 | 2024-10-24 11:27:32 | 55.03 | 96.6% |