That name is Liar Dearg, a figure whose identity has passed through oral memory rather than written record, surviving into the twentieth century through the kind of community storytelling collected by the Irish Folklore Commission.

The cairn itself is modest in scale, rising only to about a metre in height and roughly sub-circular in plan, measuring approximately 6.8 metres on its northwest to southeast axis and 6.2 metres northeast to southwest. These are the proportions of a burial monument that asks to be noticed only on close approach. The ogham stone associated with it carries a cross inscription, which places it in a tradition of early medieval reuse, where stones that may originally have marked pagan or pre-Christian burials were later adapted, the addition of a cross effectively reconsecrating both stone and site within a Christian framework. The name An Cillín Liath, meaning something close to the grey little church or grey burial ground, fits this layered quality; cillíns in Ireland were often liminal burial places, used for unbaptised infants or others excluded from consecrated ground, though the specific character of this site as it relates to that tradition is not fully spelled out in what survives about it.

The grave of Liar Dearg, whoever that figure was, remains unverified beyond the local account recorded through the Schools' Collection, a nationwide folklore-gathering project of the 1930s in which schoolchildren documented traditions from their own communities. That a name was still attached to this particular mound of stones within living memory of that project gives the site a quality that archaeological description alone cannot quite capture.