if you see something, say nothing

Enough dirt has been shoveled aside that Aesop thought he might have luck trying to actually remove the thing, now. So, gracelessly, and with little care for how it might look, he shoved his nose into the hole, grabbing at the lowest point that he could. With a firm grip he wiggled the roots a bit and then pulled until the thin root hairs gave way, the whole system crying uncle as he yanked out the plant, dirt and all. He shook it a few times, gently, to rid it of some of the soil it so desperately clung to, then dropped it at his feet to inspect it for damage.

It was only then that he responded to Atreyu, grinning wickedly. "Poisons," Aesop confirmed. He nosed the plant a bit, pleased with his results, then gestured to it with a paw. "This fucker here, for instance, is a right horror. See, the great thing about it is it just chills for a little while, a few days if you're lucky, then bam! Dead. Walkin' along, doin' your own thing, and then you're pukin' out your own heart. Literally." Oh, right. Headaches. Of course. This one would be useful, as he was plagued by headaches. He looked to Atreyu to see what his reaction was, adding, "I'm Aesop," with the same casual tone one uses to discuss the weather.