Once, a man sought companions for the road.
One spoke much.
He promised help, loyalty, presence.
His words were warm and certain.
The other spoke little.
At times awkwardly.
At times not at all.
When the road became hard,
the first disappeared.
Not out of malice —
but because promising is easier than walking.
The second remained.
He did not explain.
He did not swear.
He simply walked beside him.
Then the man understood:
Promises sound loud
until the hour of action comes.
And betrayal
is not an act —
it is a character
revealed in time.
From that day on,
he listened less to words.
He watched
who stayed
when the road became uncomfortable.