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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 8403 | 2025-01-08 13:40:08 | 81.12 | 97.8% |
| 8097 | 2024-11-27 08:37:57 | 81.26 | 97.3% |
| 7174 | 2024-05-10 18:55:21 | 78.53 | 97.8% |
| 6766 | 2024-04-21 18:52:52 | 83.08 | 98.3% |
| 6700 | 2024-04-18 09:07:11 | 82.90 | 97.5% |