Saanvi sat on the wooden plank of the bullock cart, her hands folded tightly in her lap as the animals plodded forward along the narrow dirt path. The morning sun was already climbing higher, casting long shadows through the tall grass and scattered trees that lined both sides of the secluded track. The cart creaked with every uneven bump, the wheels grinding against the hard earth, the wooden frame shifting under her weight. She had been ordered by the village elder to help with the fieldwork that day, carrying water and tools to the men working the distant fields. The cart driver, an older man named Ramesh, held the reins loosely, his eyes occasionally flicking back toward her. Two other farmers, young and broad-shouldered, sat near the front, their bodies swaying with the motion of the cart.