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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6075 | 2024-03-04 07:13:15 | 113.38 | 97.4% |
| 4292 | 2023-11-06 15:04:01 | 91.94 | 95.9% |
| 3693 | 2023-10-25 18:31:56 | 96.71 | 97.9% |