It is a small thing, easily missed, and that smallness is part of what makes it quietly arresting. The wall base protrudes intermittently through the peat, tracing a ring just wide enough to have kept one or two people out of the wind on an east-facing slope.

The structure is defined by the base stones of a drystone wall, a type of construction using carefully stacked unmortared stone, which here has long since tumbled inward, leaving courses roughly 0.65 metres thick and 0.35 metres high where they still emerge. Faint traces of an enclosing bank are visible in the gaps between surviving stonework. Whoever built this took care with the ground itself: the southern to north-western arc of the hut was cut roughly 0.2 metres into the slope, so that the interior floor would sit level rather than tilt with the hillside. A possible entrance opens along the eastern arc, onto a level area of ground. Five metres to the south lies a fulacht fia, a type of prehistoric cooking site typically identified by a mound of heat-shattered stone, the residue of repeated use of fire-heated rocks to boil water in a trough. The proximity of the two features suggests this corner of the hill was a place of sustained, purposeful activity rather than a single brief occupation.