Stone walls, most of them collapsed and jumbled, protrude through the peat across an area roughly 350 metres north to south and 200 metres east to west. They trace both straight lines and curves, occasionally vanishing altogether where the bog deepens in wet hollows, as though the land is still deciding whether to reveal them or swallow them back.

What makes this network particularly striking is not the walls themselves but the company they keep. Within the same field system sit two hut sites, a fulacht fia, and a burnt mound. A fulacht fia is a type of prehistoric cooking site, typically consisting of a trough and a mound of fire-cracked stones, created when water was heated by dropping in stones from a fire and used to cook food or possibly for other purposes such as bathing or textile work. Burnt mounds are closely related, being the accumulated debris of repeated episodes of that same stone-boiling process. Together, these features suggest a place that was not just farmed but lived in and worked across, over a sustained period. Among the collapsed walling, a detail worth noting is the presence of several stone slabs set upright at right angles to the wall line, a construction technique that speaks to deliberate effort in laying out and reinforcing boundaries rather than simply piling loose stone.

The bog that now covers this slope is both the reason so much has survived and the reason it remains difficult to read. Peat preserves what soil and weather would otherwise destroy, but it also obscures, compresses, and shifts. Walking the hillside at Derroograne, the visible portions of wall have a fragmentary, emergent quality, as though the landscape is mid-sentence rather than fully told.