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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2687 | 2024-03-24 21:23:12 | 56.06 | 94.6% |
| 2594 | 2024-01-22 23:43:00 | 63.70 | 95.1% |