I'd like to be considered, as a ranger. You asked for 3-5 paragraphs in-character, so here's an attempt. Without being sure how experienced our characters are I can't swear this is fits, but it's a start!
The rain that had been developing for hours now began, first as the sound of drops on leaves, then striking skin, and kicking up tiny puffs of dust as it struck parched ground. Callenda frowned but didn't raise her hood just yet. It had been a long day, her horse was hot and sweaty, and even her own lithe body was beginning to protest. Under her, her mount picked up her impatience, and faithfully lengthened his stride - but a moment later, the call came from one of the clanking, clumsy knights behind her. "Hey now, Callie, hold up. Hey! I said wait!"
Suppressing a sigh, the slim young tracker reigned in and made a quarter turn to face the men trailing along behind. She may never have been able to understand her fellow humans the way she could read the simper beasts, but even she could guess what was on Bavartin's mind. Perhaps that was because he was a fairly simple beast himself, she mused secretly, harbouring a slight smile. "We can't wait, Lord. The track isn't getting any fresher, and if these drops are the start of something big, as it appears, it'll get that much harder to follow. We do want to catch this band, yes?"
Perhaps she shouldn't have pushed so hard earlier. Perhaps her voice betrayed too much of her own irritation - Lord Bavartin had never been one to tolerate disrespect, as he now made clear. Whatever the reasons, a few uncomfortable minutes later Callenda was back on track, alone, while behind her Bavartin's followers were erecting a pavillion, of all things, to rest and hide from the rain like some sort of ... well, she didn't know like what. Something that stayed indoors. Trying to make her sluggish mind come up with an apt comparison, she almost missed an abrupt turn in the trail, where the three fugitives had apparently decided to cut through a small copse. The rain was coming down full force now, and Callenda had no choice but to dismount, leading her steaming warhorse at a brisk walk, eyes alert. She made an obvious blaze showing her direction of travel - she hoped it was obvious enough for Bavartin, and followed.
She'd have to apologize to Bavartin, that was certain. She didn't quite understand why he was so touchy about these men, or why her mild comment had triggered such a reaction, but she did like to get paid, and most of the time, he paid well, for simple work. And if there was anything she remembered clearly about her father's teachings, it was that those who gave offense, made amends. It didn't matter if offense wasn't intended. She nodded to herself, firming up her decision - then the snap of a twig returned her to the moment. Her reigns were dropped and bow in hand, arrow nocked, so quickly that her horse gently bumped her from behind, sending her lurching two steps forward, eyes still scanning in the direction of the sound. A movement - bow up and bent - and a deer bounded away to the right, springing with tail high. Callenda relaxed, and returned her arrow to its quiver, covering it with a flap of cloak. There was no danger in that direction, or there wouldn't have been a deer to spook. Still, she kept her bow in hand, noting the water running down the waxed string, and knowing its effectiveness - and that of her arrows - was decreasing with every drop. Well, she wasn't supposed to capture the men herself, just locate them for the knights who would come along, eventually.