He felt a tugging at his robe, and looked down.

The god looked down at his long white robe.

The revised wizard pulled at his robes as he looked about.

But as I got to my feet he shot a hand out and grabbed at my robe.

The wind whipped at his robe, driving the black clouds overhead.

He pulled at his own gray and maroon striped robe.

He reached out his small hand and tugged insistently at the God's robe.

He glanced down at his robes and saw their white color faded to dirty gray.

The man fidgeted with his staff and looked down at his robe.

It pulled at his robes as if inspecting him, trying to determine whether he was worthy of its attention.