The antiquarian T. J. Westropp, visiting in 1911, described it with characteristic economy as being covered by "a shapeless heap of slabs", and that description still holds. Yet peer through the overgrowth and the disorder resolves, partially, into something more deliberate: fragmentary drystone wall faces, the remnants of what was once a rectangular structure, and a narrow stone-built cavity roughly 1.5 metres long, roofed with at least two lintels, that is almost certainly the well chamber itself. Westropp noted, on each of his two visits, that there was no water in it, which adds a quietly melancholy detail to an already ruined place.

The well sits within a broader complex of ecclesiastical remains at Kill, around 125 metres north-west of the site known locally as the Abbey. Its dedication to the Blessed Virgin Mary is thought to be connected to the Cistercian character of that nearby foundation, the Cistercians being an order with a particular Marian devotion. The surrounding area preserves other traces of this medieval religious landscape, and the well itself has not escaped the Abbey's slow dispersal: a small chamfered jamb stone of serpentinite, a greenish metamorphic rock, sits at the north-west of the cairn, and several well-dressed blocks nearby are thought to have migrated from the Abbey as it fell apart over the centuries. Two inscribed grave slabs also lie on the cairn surface, adding a funerary dimension to what was already a place of some ritual complexity. The name Toberfelamurry, from the Irish tobar, meaning well, preserves the Marian dedication in its older form.