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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2199 | 2023-11-29 11:38:19 | 67.52 | 98.5% |
| 2104 | 2023-11-06 12:57:34 | 61.20 | 97.5% |
| 1970 | 2023-10-25 10:53:37 | 56.85 | 96.7% |