Helplessly hoping, her harlequin hovers nearby, awaiting a word. Gasping at glimpses of gentle true spirit, he runs, wishing he could fly, only to trip at the sound of good-bye.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1178 | 2020-02-28 11:04:17 | 30.40 | 95% |
| 952 | 2020-02-06 16:10:25 | 43.62 | 97% |