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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5343 | 2025-05-23 16:28:02 | 90.14 | 96% |
| 2482 | 2024-09-14 18:55:17 | 71.54 | 95% |
| 2093 | 2024-08-31 17:57:33 | 66.90 | 95% |
| 1994 | 2024-08-28 16:56:29 | 85.31 | 96.9% |
| 1991 | 2024-08-28 16:52:42 | 82.66 | 97.2% |
| 709 | 2024-06-07 16:13:04 | 54.88 | 94.7% |