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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1453 | 2024-04-01 02:53:53 | 84.52 | 97.8% |
| 1305 | 2024-02-11 18:55:10 | 77.38 | 96.5% |
| 715 | 2023-12-02 22:17:13 | 72.91 | 96.7% |
| 569 | 2023-11-27 22:57:02 | 69.60 | 95.5% |
| 441 | 2023-11-10 23:03:19 | 70.13 | 97.3% |