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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3798 | 2024-07-21 14:16:10 | 76.29 | 95.3% |
| 2219 | 2024-04-17 12:59:46 | 75.31 | 96% |
| 1446 | 2024-02-11 14:30:42 | 72.48 | 96.1% |