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I only translated his last words into English, but he calls Arabia formally as "The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia" and means Alexandria when he mentions his home.
Arabia. Enkiel bristled, the fur along his spine rising to a high point, his hand going still. He did not turn to look at the man behind him, for his face was carefully contorted into stillness—but hate burned in his eyes and turned them into black coals ringed with dark and terrible red. There was no love in him for that place, having seen firsthand what sort of madness lived within the men of those countries. It had been a brief amount of time, but the port towns echoed what the merchants and travelers showed him day in and day out.
“I will ask you not to speak of المملكة العربية السعودية in my presence,” he said lowly, and finished his lettering with careful precision. “I am from اسكندريه, Egypt.” the jackal went on. There was a slight tonal shift as his dialect changed—central Arabic, as it was spoken in the majority of the middle-east, had slight variations when it came to his Egyptian pronouncation. Being the only native speaker since Sa’adat, though, Enkiel knew that no one would pick up on such a thing. He moved the paper to the side and went on. “There have long been hate between our people,” the jackal went on, and motioned for the man to stay if he so desire. “If I were العربي جنون you would have lost your tongue for such an insult. It is…” he paused, and finally lifted his eyes to meet those of the other man. “It is like calling you a wolf.”
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