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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2994 | 2024-12-13 03:55:55 | 53.98 | 96.7% |
| 1986 | 2024-09-21 00:43:21 | 50.61 | 96% |
| 1723 | 2024-03-12 07:05:48 | 47.62 | 96.1% |
| 1143 | 2024-03-05 03:48:57 | 46.49 | 97.5% |