Three Sentence Ficathon

When you first began to hunt the Name, that niggling little peckishness had been a mere annoyance; it became a constant companion, became a friend, became the only part of you that has not yet melted away like a candle's wax. The gnawing has eaten your stomach now, and still you devour - chestnuts and flesh, and dreams, and hope. Still you are never satisfied.

(This is only right.)
(Hunt as he was hunted.)
(Consume as he was consumed.)