As Dandelion's luck would have it, the next woman that comes to him just in time to hear his bemoaning, is short. And blue. And has a pair of long, slender horns that spike through the hat she's got on, though she'll tilt her head up enough to peer past the brim and scrutinize him beyond amber lenses.

"What kind of curse would that be?" she asks with obvious interest. She can't answer the other part, considering she's a stranger here herself, so... yeah, she'll go with that.