Almost in the same moment, the next student enters the room.
She's easily Crystal's height, more if you count the horns. Her long barbed tail sweeps back and forth with serpentine elegance as she walks, and her half-mantled wings gleam with a dull red light that also shines faintly from beneath her ash-grey skin. Her fingers and toes end in long curving talons with razor-sharp points. The overall impression is undeniably demonic. In a room like this one, her unnatural beauty falls a little flatter than it otherwise might have, and the expression on her face isn't helping; she looks around her with utter contempt, dismissing everyone present as unworthy of her attention.
There's not much going on in her head that her face wasn't already saying, although there's plenty of extra detail available, most of it very concerning. She doesn't exactly hate everyone here, because hatred is an emotion reserved for people who are worth thinking about, but she expects to take some amount of satisfaction in crushing them all. Some of them might turn out to be useful and she supposes she will have to put up with letting those ones keep the ability to speak and act and sense their environment, at least temporarily; the rest, though, are going to stop having experiences other than pain. (It's offensive to her, on a deep level, that anyone gets to have experiences other than pain.)
She stalks up the aisle between the two blocks of seats, toward the woman with the drapey sleeves, and she recognizes that there is someone in her way but she has no intention of slowing down or turning aside to accommodate their presence. It's up to the stranger whether to get out of the way or be trampled.