"No." He muttered, calm but firm in his tone. The one word answered the man's initial question while also providing a refusal to his order. It didn't really bother him to linger, although he felt the pull of his weighted ego and subtly lifted his head and tail, before stirring the fog with it a moment later and allowing the appendage to settle. Njal watched the edge. His gaze trailed to the gaunt man and his stick, but could not figure out on his own what was going on.
The steam which rose from the pool had become clouded. It wasn't a very strong tint, but enough to pique Njal's interest further. He crept closer, and was foolish enough to drift alongside Lecter to a degree that his face was quite close to the concoction. The scent was strong. It reached in to his nostrils and even slipped across his tongue, pungent with its odious perfume. As the warden pulled back, he sputtered softly, gasping for cooler, cleaner air. "What is it?" He rumbled with a grimace - nose crinkling in distaste.