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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 4232 | 2025-01-28 22:21:47 | 83.43 | 97.2% |
| 3858 | 2025-01-15 17:00:08 | 82.30 | 95.8% |
| 2635 | 2024-11-23 17:35:45 | 81.52 | 96.5% |
| 2163 | 2024-10-16 16:02:28 | 72.13 | 95.6% |