The wall still protrudes above the peat surface, which is itself an odd sight; drystone construction is rarely so candid about its own age, and the fact that the bog has risen to meet it rather than buried it entirely gives the structure an exposed, stranded quality. The interior and the ground falling away to the south are scattered with rubble, suggesting a collapse that happened slowly rather than all at once.

The hut measures roughly two metres north to south, with its straight northern side running just over a metre east to west. That straight edge is not an independent wall but is formed by the southern arc of a larger enclosure nearby, meaning the hut was built into or against an existing boundary rather than standing alone. The surviving drystone wall, where it can be traced, is about sixty centimetres thick and stands to around forty centimetres in height, which is modest even by the standards of structures that have spent centuries sinking into rough hill pasture. Drystone construction of this kind, stone laid without mortar and relying on careful coursing for stability, was common across early medieval Ireland for both domestic and agricultural use, and the association with a broader enclosure suggests this was part of a small settled or seasonal farming complex rather than an isolated shelter.