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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1161 | 2024-01-08 23:04:39 | 73.49 | 97.8% |
| 632 | 2023-12-21 19:19:33 | 69.71 | 96.9% |
| 615 | 2023-12-20 16:48:40 | 65.39 | 95% |