She's not sure what they're thinking either, but Circe has never been good at understanding what goes through the minds of others, god or mortal. It seems hopelessly reckless, or desperate, to charge out like that, when the fact is things are very strange but not all that very dire.

"I agree. It is all... very strange to me here. As you would know." How awkward, this acting is. Playing the role of the villainess has become second nature to her, but the time she was last a lover was so very long ago. It is stilted, however sincerely she tries. "It would do good to get our bearings--" A short hesitation, before she concludes no real lover of hers would ever remain ignorant of her withcraft. "And it would be even more fortunate if I could locate growing plants, or dyes, or something of the like, so I may see if there is a spell I can fashion."

It is not a strong hope in her, given how she is totally without her stores or her kitchen, much less her garden and her island. But Circe is unwilling not to try. And being a witch is no great secret; even mortals may be witches.