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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 7546 | 2024-05-30 11:12:09 | 83.72 | 98.6% |
| 7038 | 2024-03-03 08:36:02 | 69.95 | 97.5% |