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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6110 | 2023-12-23 03:48:42 | 51.45 | 95.3% |
| 6087 | 2023-12-23 02:57:28 | 49.83 | 94.7% |
| 5550 | 2023-12-07 18:47:05 | 49.61 | 96.5% |