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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1745 | 2023-12-31 00:20:04 | 99.05 | 98.3% |
| 1461 | 2023-12-20 01:09:43 | 98.11 | 97.8% |
| 1408 | 2023-12-17 00:57:38 | 100.32 | 97.1% |