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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2221 | 2024-01-16 16:43:23 | 64.92 | 96.3% |
| 1996 | 2024-01-01 11:55:44 | 63.29 | 98.6% |
| 1953 | 2023-12-30 13:53:20 | 67.23 | 97.8% |