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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 290 | 2023-12-14 21:15:06 | 66.79 | 97.5% |
| 51 | 2023-11-29 20:36:54 | 54.54 | 94.7% |