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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 14415 | 2024-03-22 08:54:34 | 74.48 | 96.9% |
| 14359 | 2024-02-14 05:53:03 | 76.87 | 95.2% |