if you see something, say nothing

To say that Aesop had not thought of Atreyu in the time since their meeting would be false, as Aesop thought much on the interaction. He constantly fussed over how he better could have handled it so that all came out for the better, and in the warm glow of his fantasies he found many options for better resolutions, though few were realistic. Indeed, each grew more and more far-fetched as he fussed over the fine details, until he realized that it was a train of thought that he had to drop.

Indeed, it had been a while anyway, and so in recent days, Aesop had been more concerned with other matters. He still lived relatively free of responsibility, and so his days were spent familiarizing himself or settling in, hours and tasks which lent themselves to a great deal of ruminating over anything and everything.

"See anythin' worthwhile?" he asked, since it felt like the polite thing to do. As Atreyu inspected his progress, so too did Aesop, frowning contemplatively at the precise, shallow hole. The roots of the plant still clung desperately to the earth around which they were entwined, but he was almost there. "Ain't stealin' if no one owns it," he pointed out, grinning wryly.