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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1900 | 2023-11-05 11:28:40 | 73.68 | 96.1% |
| 1819 | 2023-11-04 02:51:28 | 67.64 | 95.4% |
| 1765 | 2023-11-03 03:23:04 | 59.29 | 95.2% |