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 |
---|---|---|---|
1761 | 2023-11-22 21:31:00 | 104.38 | 97.9% |
1696 | 2023-11-11 21:52:34 | 72.05 | 95.8% |