A muscle twitched in Jinn's face - his jaw, flexing under the strain of a bitten off denial he nevertheless managed to hold back. Because it wasn't Hannibal likening him to a dog; the conversational fork offered two options to choose from. It was Jinn who picked the latter.
"I am not familiar with angels, though their star is waning and they may soon discover a thirst for companionship among those who have come before them." And survived, which was by no means guaranteed when fortune no longer favored an object of belief. "As for dogs... Yes. I suppose there is something to that."
Was it the amulet's hold on him he resented, or the fact that it was in the Allfather's hands? Jinn dismissed the question, knowing full well that it would bother him later. "You worship knowledge, I can see. Precision." A slow look up and down. "Fine things. Son of Baal, indeed."