Yes

Worried about what she might summon, you drop your bow to place a hand below the girl's snout, which in turn traps her cries. Not to be outdone, she twists and turns, her squishy cheeks rubbing against your fingers in a failed attempt to slide out of their grasp.

She may not put up a great fight, but the confidence is there. Though, what she is not aware of is that no matter what scheme she may come up with, her face spells it in detail...

One look is enough. You're not too worried, but still squeeze her closer to you in order to prevent any mishap. And then you feel it.

She's ready to deploy her biggest bunny weapon.

Her legs flail all of a sudden, sending powerful kicks in every direction possible from her uncomfortable position. They retract and extend with a piercing sound, slicing and driving heel-first for any solid point she can use to propel herself. With little to show for her efforts, her confidence begins to wane. Her elbows contribute a push against your chest, the bunny still unwilling to discard the berry or admit defeat.

Only after another dozen kicks does a look of exhaustion cross her face. Every single kick registers nothing but air. Mounting the giant root has become her biggest regret.

Out of curiosity, you glance at her expression. Frustration. While she's not shouting anymore, this gives rise to another problem.

Despite how stuffy the inside of your hand is, she insists on venting her misgivings by taking big breaths through her mouth.

It is not her futile struggles that you find difficult to withstand, but the ticklish sensations that follow one after another. The vibrations of her voice. The ends of her fur. The moist lips. And now, the hot breath... All targeting your skin and sending shivers down your spine.

It's impossible not to leave any breathing room. Not only does she look like a marshmallow. She also feels like one. You can't handle her too roughly.

Contrary to what she might believe, you don't even want to harm her. As for communicating this, it has become too complicated at this point. She doesn't seem to understand speech, and you're not sure she would appreciate your intentions if you loosened your grip, if notice them at all.

In one last defiant act, her hands release the berry and reach to pry your fingers for some sort of freedom. With similar results to her previous struggles, the persistent groans end in a sigh. It's her loss.

Since she doesn't seem like she would throw another fit, you uncover her mouth. You have deprived the hare of everything she could use against you. You can see that she understands this too.

Her head raises slightly so she can look into your eyes. Her ruby-like orbs hold pleading and twinkles of hope, while the snout sticks out the slightest bit in a show of weakness.

Pity. Freedom. Maybe something else as well. They're all things that she seems to ask for.

But she's the captive. What about what you want?