Janan Hanif was born in the small tribe of Buhayra. Her days were quiet and peaceful, until she finally got betrothed to a young man from a friendly tribe. There was some resistance from the young woman, but when she came with a handsome drowry, she was quick to make friends with the ladies in that tribe. But it seems that it wasn't meant o last. A few weeks after she had come, another Abatti tribe had raided. Luckly or unluckly Janan Hanif had survived with minor harm. But her husband was dead, her drowry gone and the few surviving of the tribe were too injured to survive for long with her lack of medical skill.
Janan had to spend many nights alone. Surviving on scraps. Trying to find her way back to her clan. But it seems their paths were never meant to cross. The endless cold night. The endless scroching days. It might have toyed with her mind. She felt so alone. Until she came across a cat. A mother cat. It took pity upon the still a girl elf and lead her to her nest. It was the first company Janan had in a long time. And she loved every moment of it. She talked to the cats. Helped them hunt. Helped them clean and they comforted each other.
At one point. While she was out with a few of them. She came across a merchant caravan. A few of its memeber at first thought this a trap. But the leader took pity on the overly skinny girl wearing blood stained tatters of what must have at one point been fine quality clothes. So she joined the caravan, some of the cats that favoured her joining. That night was the first decent meal she had in years. And that night was also the one where she truelly mourned her losses. The singing and dancing mood of these merchants making her remember all the things she likely won't enjoy anymore. Yet Janan could appreciate what she had gained and would work hard to keep it. They traveled many roads. And for years she was part of this group. Even when the leader was replaced by his son. She had remained. But one's son had a thing for the still very beautiful and young looking elf. She never returned these feelings and the others in the caravan suspected that it was just a ploy to make the young next leader far for her even harder and make her inherit the caravan. So at the next time they had spent a night at Maraan - which at the time consisted of only a single cravanaserai and many tents - they had stealthely left her behind in the middle of the night. The feeling of betrayal would have been greater for Janan if her cats had left with them.
Having toughened up. The young lady had started to work at the caravanserai. First as just a simple cleaning maid. Then when the owners noticed hee sharp wits. She had helped with pricings and supplys. She had worked for many years. Watching the first buildings being added. At sometimes Janan would have left Maraan ti return to the desert. A year or two or maybe more. Depending on how far she strayed. But she would always return to Maraan. Ever-changing Maraan, it twin arches looming in the distance being the only constant. At one point she started adding on to it with her own earned money. Buildings to hold othwr shops. She had started to become a land lady. She has a good eye with which merchants would be good for where. And the cats always keeping her company were good goods guards from mouses, scorpions and other pests that would tend to plague such places.
Time passes fast for ones so busy making business. Janan even loved to support artists and such that would cross Maraan for whatever reason.

Currently she is enjoying the same such quality of life. But with a little bit of assistance.