Odd Stitcher bullet timing threads

Two shots rang out, then three more. The Stitcher raised two fingers, and the bullets were split apart by a lattice of threads.

“Ugh, how come everyone gets to be a bullet timer? It’s not fair! Some of us only have guns, you know!”

Gwen stood behind the Stitcher, a ways off, with a single pistol in her hands. The Stitcher turned, and spoke. “And then, there was one.”