The structure measures just two metres across, defined by the remnants of a drystone wall, a technique requiring no mortar, using only carefully chosen and stacked stones, that was common across Ireland for millennia. What survives today is largely collapsed, rising to only about thirty centimetres at its highest point on the northern arc, while the southern portion has almost entirely dissolved back into the hillside.

The site sits overlooking the valley of the Owbeg River, and whoever built and used it was working with the slope rather than against it. The northern part of the interior was cut back into the uphill ground, while the southern portion was left raised, effectively levelling out the floor within this tiny structure. Loose stones scatter down the slope outside the southern face, probably the remains of the wall material that has gradually slipped away. Around twenty-two metres to the north, traces of old field boundaries survive, suggesting this was once part of a small agricultural landscape, a pocket of organised land use on the open mountain. Whether the hut served a seasonal herding purpose or something else entirely is not recorded, and the absence of dating evidence leaves its age genuinely open. Structures of this kind can belong to almost any period in Irish prehistory or early history, and that ambiguity is part of what makes them quietly compelling.