Helplessly hoping, her harlequin hovers nearby, awaiting a word. Gasping at glimpses of gentle true spirit, he runs, wishing he could fly, only to trip at the sound of good-bye.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 763 | 2020-09-17 10:28:28 | 30.03 | 93% |
| 695 | 2020-09-16 14:47:32 | 28.47 | 92% |