What makes them worth a second look is not their condition but their company: the walls encircle a cashel, a type of circular stone fort enclosed by a dry-stone wall, and the stonework at the base of the field boundaries appears to belong to the same ancient tradition as the cashel itself. That continuity, between the enclosure of a settlement and the division of the land around it, hints at a landscape shaped over a very long period by the same hands and the same logic.

The walls stand roughly a metre high where they survive, and run about half a metre thick, though much of the upper courses have tumbled. Archaeologists who examined the site noted that while the bases carry the hallmarks of early construction, the upper portions of the walls may have been rebuilt in more recent centuries, meaning the boundaries were probably maintained and adapted long after their original purpose was established. The whole arrangement was still legible enough in 1973 to be clearly recorded in an aerial photograph, which gives some sense of how well the pattern of enclosure had held its shape across the rough pasture, even in partial ruin.