The motif is small, roughly forty centimetres across, and consists of two cupmarks of different sizes enclosed by a pair of sub-oval rings, the whole thing sitting slightly off-centre on a roughly triangular surface that tilts gently westward. Cupmarks are exactly what they sound like: shallow, rounded depressions ground or pecked into rock, whose meaning or purpose remains genuinely unknown. The rings that surround them here are formed from individual pickmarks, careful and deliberate, made by a hand pressing a harder stone repeatedly into the surface. The result belongs to a tradition of prehistoric rock art found widely across Atlantic Europe, most of it undated with any precision and most of it similarly unexplained.

The outcrop itself is modest in scale, roughly 1.35 metres north to south and 0.80 metres east to west, rising to about half a metre at its eastern edge. It sits at 181 metres above sea level on a gentle north-east-facing slope, with a drystone field boundary a couple of metres to the east and the lip of a gorge, dropping somewhere between eight and ten metres, only six metres to the north. Mountains close in from the south and west. The decorated surface is heavily weathered, and natural fissures running north to south, along with small pock-like depressions in the rock, make it harder to read the carved marks against the grain of the stone itself. That difficulty is part of what makes these sites quietly unsettling: the carving was once clear enough to be intentional and communicative, and now it requires patience just to see it.