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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 7654 | 2024-04-11 16:43:23 | 53.34 | 99.1% |
| 7612 | 2024-04-10 13:54:26 | 49.32 | 98.3% |
| 7431 | 2023-12-14 12:49:06 | 48.46 | 99.1% |