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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6570 | 2025-09-19 19:06:57 | 78.66 | 97% |
| 2613 | 2025-01-16 19:21:10 | 71.45 | 97% |
| 1262 | 2024-11-27 13:22:22 | 78.59 | 98% |
| 1114 | 2024-11-25 15:15:41 | 79.37 | 97.5% |
| 1083 | 2024-11-22 08:02:44 | 72.43 | 97.5% |