That ambiguity is itself the interesting thing. The buildings are close enough to suggest they belong to the same story as the well, yet the historical record leaves open the possibility that they are the remains of something much more ordinary: the remnants of a vanished rural settlement.

The larger of the two structures measures roughly 7.5 metres by 5.5 metres and is built from undressed blocks, that is, stones used without any cutting or shaping, laid directly from the field or riverbed. It lies about 8 metres to the north-west of the well. A second building, slightly to the north-north-east of the well and measuring 8 metres by 4 metres, is marginally better preserved. Its eastern wall still stands to a height of 1.5 metres, though the remaining walls have collapsed or been swallowed by grass. A narrow laneway runs just outside that surviving wall. Both buildings may have served an ecclesiastical function, associated with the broader complex of church remains nearby. But the 1838 edition of the Ordnance Survey six-inch map complicates that reading. It shows a cluster of around twenty buildings on this site, labelled 'Toberelatan', suggesting that what survives here could just as plausibly be part of a once-substantial settlement, long since cleared or abandoned, rather than anything connected to religious life at the well.

The name Toberelatan is worth pausing on. 'Tobar' is the Irish word for a well, so the placename appears to take the well itself as its anchor point, whatever else once stood around it. Whether the buildings served pilgrims, a community, or a combination of both, the 1838 map is the last clear evidence that this was once a place of some size and activity.