The hut is modest almost to the point of disappearing: roughly two metres across in either direction, its walls no more than sixty centimetres high and sixty centimetres thick where they survive. What makes it quietly arresting is not its scale but its particulars. The builders worked the natural landscape into the fabric of the structure, incorporating outcropping bedrock along the eastern arc of the wall rather than clearing it away. On the uphill side, the interior floor was cut forty centimetres into the slope to create a level surface, a small but deliberate act of shaping the ground to suit habitation.

The site sits on a sheltered terrace in rough upland pasture, a position that would have offered some protection from the prevailing weather while remaining well above the valley floor. Drystone construction, in which stones are stacked and fitted without mortar, was common across many centuries of Irish upland activity, used for everything from temporary seasonal shelters to more permanent enclosures, so the technique alone does not fix the structure to a particular period. What adds to its interest is its company: a second hut site lies approximately two metres to the east-northeast, suggesting this was not a solitary refuge but part of a small cluster. The bog that now partly buries the walls would have accumulated gradually over time, and the fact that any wall at all protrudes above the surface speaks to how solidly, if roughly, it was originally built.