Cower away

You know this is the coward's way out. There's nothing heroic about leaving someone behind because of your own gutlessness. You'd be a wimp to choose to leave, and yet here you are. You slink down with your shoulders slouched and a nagging thought in your head that you should've done more to help that person out, but instead, you'd rather save your own hide.

As you gain ground heading back the way you came, you hear erogenous wails in the distance. You try not to think about whatever has become of the bound-up victim as you shamble away in shame. What would your wife and daughters think about your decision? Surely, they'll come to the conclusion that you're much less of a man for it. Being so deplorably pathetic stirs up a pleasant tingle in your loins, though, so how bad can it _really _be?