That absence from the cartographic record is itself telling: whatever this structure once was, it escaped the notice of every survey party that passed through, leaving its purpose and age open to quiet speculation.

What survives is a drystone wall, the building technique that needs no mortar, relying instead on carefully fitted stones, that has fallen outward along its north-east to south-east arc. The structure measures roughly 3.8 metres north to south and 2.75 metres east to west, making it a modest, human-scaled space. The wall, where it remains most intact between the south-east, west, and north-east, still stands to an internal height of around 0.45 metres, with an overall width at its base of about 2.65 metres. The interior is gently bowl-shaped and level, and there is no trace of an entrance gap or any outer fosse, the term for a defensive ditch, which might otherwise hint at a more fortified or ceremonial function. Around eighteen metres to the west lies a separate enclosure, and the whole area is threaded through with moss-covered field walls, suggesting a landscape that was once actively managed and subdivided, though it has long since been reclaimed by woodland. Beech trees now grow directly from the bank itself, their roots woven into the stonework.