Ocean's Breath Plateau how long can you hold your breath?

erzulie watched the figure from the bank, flanked by the unseen loa that had not left her side since she departed marie. oh, ma petite colombe d'or! the woman had exclaimed, peppering erzulie's cheeks in a frenzy of kisses. her new man had loomed nearby, dark, his eye trained on the scene with a mild expression of indulgent disgust. after all, the child his bride cooed to in french had been nothing more than a budding harlot.
nous serons de nouveau ensemble très bientôt, ma chérie. 
a promise.
erzulie had not seen her again. 
the wolf on the shoreline gasped, shocking the jezebel back into awareness of where she was. the loa whispered; she scoffed, but did not abandon their words. the figure, the cold shore, rosalyn napping in the nearby trees. water arced in long droplets, and she chose that moment to rise, to approach. the distance shortened — the masculinity of his build became apparent, and she was curious to know if the fragrance of sorrow clung to him beneath the streaming brine, or if some feral delight had only gripped him momentarily.